


Cross the Bridge Together

by Kentarou_San



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Love, Start of Something New, Starting Over, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 07:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14950181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kentarou_San/pseuds/Kentarou_San
Summary: Happy Kyouhaba day, a bit angsty but overall hopefull. Might turn it into something, for now, enjoy! I think I'm back.





	Cross the Bridge Together

**Author's Note:**

> Be careful, i don't want anyone to be triggered. Check the tags.

Even though he always tried his hardest he could never make it to that number one spot, that's how it's always been. He had never wanted to play volleyball in the first place but his parents demanded it, so he couldn't disobey. Such was his life, he came to terms with it begrudgingly. When he started he didn't really care whether he did good, or bad. Now that he wholeheartedly enjoyed the sport though, things were different.

It was a hot evening, just after practice had ended. It was midsummer so the sun was still up but it was starting to swoon lower and lower as he looked out at it from the desolate bridge, it was on the way home from the school. Even though he walks on and past it everyday this was the first time he ever stopped to look at the view. Beneath the bridge there was an almost never occupied road, because of it's disuse it was almost as pristine as the day it was paved. Above it was a veiw between town houses where a large portion of the sky could be seen, it reminded Yahaba Shigeru of a painting he could never create. His hands weren't delicate enough anymore, they were blistered and rough.

He looked down at his knuckles, reminded of what he came to this bridge to do suddenly. In the distance his anxiety-heightened senses could hear heavy but slow footfalls, he would have to make this quick even if this was Japan and nobody really cared about jumpers.

Shigeru hopped up onto the wide, concrete railing. His legs shook as the weight of the sky seemed to grow heavier upon him. He shuffled closer to the edge, he could feel his energy peaking. He leaned closer, almost fell, and leaned back again. Fear over came him as he relived his life prior to this event.

From the moment he was born he was the perfect puppet for his parents, he had his mothers silvery-brown hair and his father's cocoa eyes. He also inherited the knowledge from his father, and the athleticism from his mother. A perfect mix of them both, so the took advantage of it. He struggled through practice and school and homework, coupled with hours of baseball and violin practice from the moment he was old enough to walk to school alone.

If he made a mistake he would practice it again until it was perfected, if he said no he would be locked in his room until he said yes a thousand times over. He was the top of all his classes, the top player of violin in the academy he practiced at, to this day he still hates playing the violin. Yet when high school started, and his college classes did too. He still came up on top. In everything but one.

Volleyball, he had never wanted to do it but his mother signed him up anyway. He started off leisurely, not trying too hard in the first year. But as time went on, and he began to create relationships with his teammates and his soon-to-be captain whom loved him from them moment they met, he began to fall in love with the sport. The realization that he wanted to try came in the middle of first year, when they almost lost a game and he cried out of sheer happiness at the well-earned win. Things picked up from there on. He worked his hardest from then on, he tried and he tried, he improved and improved. Then, he plateaued.

His days spent with Oikawa seemed to stop working, his strength training stopped working. He started to be interchanged between Kunimi and Oikawa, he spent his days on the bench. That, he supposed, killed him the most. Because he couldn't even be ranked anymore, he wasn't second, or third, or fourth, or fifth, he was nothing. A zero. What hurt most was when his parents showed up to a game, expecting to see him play. Only to see Kunimi. The ride home was silent except for "If you loved this sport like you say that you do, you should be out there too." And even "I wish that one boy who set was our son too." It was debilitating, but he knew not to cry.

So he played harder, spent hours after practice playing until his knees shook and his fingernails bled. A few weeks ago one even fell off. His life was truly meaningless.

He could do what others wanted, but he couldn't dominate the one thing he ever started to love.

His anxiety peaked to the point where he was so overwhelmed that his heightened senses shut all the way off, he was blind to everything but the feeling of the railing under his feet, soon to slip away, and the rosey sun set he could never live up to.

The fear flatlined as he stepped off, his pain disapeared, his shaking stopped. He felt utter bliss as his body started to sink towards the pavement. Only for a second. Footfalls he never heard had been running towards him in the split second it took him to relive his life, they reached him only a millisecond after he stepped off. As he started to fall thick arms wrapped around him, and with the strength of someone desperately trying to help flung him back over.

He landed on the person, back to face, staring up at the sky. He rolled off and reality hit like a moving train. His whole body shook, his eyes waters, his ears could hear birds singing sweetly for he that did not deserve, he would have to go home and face his parents. He lay there on the ground trembling, all was quiet except for the birds. Then he heard the yelling.

"Are you fucking crazy?! You could have died!" An oddly familiar voice screamed, "You selfish brat, do you know how upset Oikawa would be. He- the team- us- We wouldn't be able to love with ourselves if you went killing yourself, we already knew you were overworking yourself!! We-" the person seemed to be lost in the moment. It was someone that knew him, it was that moment that Yahaba's already limp body pressed itself to the ground harder.

The voice grew soft, the sound more foreign than an "I love you".

"Hey, you're okay right?" It asked gently, a large hand came down and rested itself on his trembling back. The moment it touched him his entire body convulsed, not only jumpy from what just transpired, but also from being touch starved for months on end.

His body was lifted slightly, and dragged to the opposite railing of the one he just stepped off of. He was rested against it, and he saw the face he least expected to. Kyoutani Kentarou grabbed Yahaba's chin and looked over his face, trying to gauge damage he could not see. Shigeru did not meet his eyes, he could already physically feel the glare. He expected Kyoutani to leave him there, shaking and scared, not knowimg where to live or try again. But instead of walking away like he didn't exist Kyoutani sat close, next to him.

They sat for what must have been an hour and a half in silence before a word was spoken, by then Shigeru's shaking had stopped and the crying he had started shortly after they sat down had ceased.

"Why would you do that?" Kyoutani asked, his voice hard and no more or less cold than usual. Shigeru pulled his knees up and crossed his arms around then, looking to the right while Kyoutani sat on his left.

"I don't want to talk right now, Mad Dog." He said rudely, regretting it sincerely.

"Too bad," was the threatening reply "you're going to." Shigeru looked over, about to snarl out of habit. He expected to see the glare from before, malice spread through it. Instead he saw worry, concern, maybe even a caring gaze. Kyoutani's sharp eyes were rimmed pink, sad. The words got lost in Shigeru's throat, he looked down.

"I- no one would want me to stay... I'm not _that_ meaningful." He said quietly, his mind raked itself for a reason but that was all he could find. "I'm not good enough for anyone".

Kyoutani didn't even hesitate to say it, and once the words left his mouth Shigeru's wonder overroad his dispare.

"I want you to stay."

"Why?"

"We're friends after all aren't we, sure we fight a lot but we don't hate eachother and we always fight to help eachother... At least that's what i always thought.." Kyoutani confessed.

Things got quiet again after that, the rosey sky faded into a dimming night. This time the voice that penetrated the darkness was Shigeru's.

"We are..." He couldn't find any other words to say, he just felt drained.

"It's your parents, isnt it, i heard them at the last game."

Softly, Shigeru nodded. Though he was sure that Kyoutani hadn't seen. "Amongst other things." He said, no linger having tears to cry.

"They don't decide your worth, neither does volleyball." Kyoutani states, hitting close to home.

The rough boy stands up and Shigeru almost begs him to stay, but before he can say anything embarrassing a hand extends to him.

"It's getting cold, com'on." Kyoutani says, "Spend the night at my place, lets eat then talk more."

For the fist time ever, Shigeru takes the hand of someone offering him help. The hand lingers on his for a second even after he's up, like Kyoutani is scared to let go.

They start walking towards a future, and Kyoutani tells Shigeru that he won't let him walk the bridge alone ever again. Shigeru smiles and thanks him.

He does feel like he died when he stepped off of that railing, but he also feels like he's been reborn. That together, no matter if he getting better at volleyball or not. Kyoutani will be right there with him.


End file.
